


Forgotten Family

by TallyAce



Series: Forgotten [1]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: (I'll update again don't worry), (Just...), (Need a break), (Not updating in months), (for a bit), (she says), Gen, LU Forgotten AU, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Wild traveled with the group before the calamity and then had to go back AU, aka the, cursing, short hiatus, tags will update as chapters update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23459152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallyAce/pseuds/TallyAce
Summary: No one wanted to be the first to admit it, but something about their current adventure made them all wary. Sure, their situation was weird to begin with, but nothing they couldn't take in stride. They were nine heroes who all shared the same name, pulled together to save existence itself; so nothing out of the ordinary for them.But they were really eight heroes. Eight heroes who had all experienced the horrors of heroics, who knew of loss, of pain and of weakness. Their experiences haunted them, leaving them riddled in scars, both physical and mental.The ninth was a child. A kid just barely older than the youngest hero of the group, one who'd trained to take his place among those who held the title of 'hero.' Yet he wasn't. He hadn't seen war, he hadn't experienced the pain those burdened with courage had.He was an enigma.-A look at how the heroes would respond to a pre!Calamity Wild, and how it would shape the group dynamics.
Series: Forgotten [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582441
Comments: 57
Kudos: 344





	Forgotten Family

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to write again, but I'm here now! I'll get onto writing some stuff that isn't connected to Forgotten eventually, but I have a few more ideas I want to dive into before I mark Forgotten off as completed. Promises was the main setting of sorts, focusing more on Time and Wild. I didn't spend as much time developing the other boys as I wanted (all my good boys <3), so that's what I hope to achieve in Family. 
> 
> <3 Let's begin this dance once more, shall we?

For the first time in months Link was at peace. The soothing and loving scent of baking bread wafted through the small bakery, reflecting the air of calm surrounding Link’s head. He inhaled deeply, sighing as the muscles in his shoulders relaxed and let the tension slowly trickle away. Pita’s improvised baking song threatened to lull Link to sleep, forcing him to rest his head on the wooden, flour covered table, cushioned only by his folded arms. 

“Rise and shine sleepyhead,” a deep voice broke through the calm with a playful tone. 

Link cracked one of his eyes open tilting his head to peer at Wheaton, who was happily taking the chair opposite Link for himself. He pulled his comically large hat off his head, flour falling from his hair like a waterfall. It was nearly impossible to tell his hair was brown, everything but the roots dusted the same white as his hat. 

“So, how’s the old coot doing these days?”

“He’s just as lively as ever, if not more,” Link sat up, resting his chin in his hand. “He was up until sunrise yesterday filling an order for the King, and — despite my pleads — he plans on doing it again soon.”

Wheaton frowned, rubbing a hair through his hair and sending a cloud of flour into the air. “I’m surprised you’re not in there helping him, orders from the King tend to be rather big.” 

“Link needs a break from the forge just as much as Smith does,” Pita chimed in, tilting her head back to look at Link and her husband over her shoulder. 

Link laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck to ease some of his tension. “Actually, Gramps hasn’t been letting me into the forge for over a week now.” 

Pita paused her kneading, turning fully to stare at Link with the same incredulous expression as her husband. “But Smith brags about you and your smithing skills whenever he gets the chance, surely he doesn’t believe you won’t meet the King’s expectations?” 

Link waved his hands, quickly stamping out their confusion. “It’s nothing like that! He’s been threatening to kick me out of the forge for weeks now, he just decided to act on those threats not long ago. I’ve uh . . . I’ve been taking most of the requests that have come in lately, and Gramps just wants me to take more time for myself.” 

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Pita turned back to her work. Link relaxed, feeling a weight settle in his gut. He always was a good liar, despite the guilt that engulfed him afterwards. 

“So how’ve you been using all this extra free time?” Wheaton leaned back in his chair slightly, not enough to tip it over but enough to shift his center of balance. “Visiting the Princess I assume?” 

The guilt in his chest grew heavier, pulling against his mind like a loose string in fabric. His threads were slowly unwinding, threatening to fall apart if the weight got any stronger. “Ah, no. She’s been really busy with training to take the throne, I haven’t wanted to bother her.” 

Technically not a lie. 

Wheaton raised an eyebrow. “So what have you been doing this past week?” 

Link brushed off the question with a shrug, not wanting to admit to the two bakers he’d been running off to the borders of Hyrule again. He just needed to be doing something,  _ anything _ to keep himself busy. Whether that be getting to know the Zora tribe that was beginning to merge into the Kingdom, or hiding away with the mountain minish, helping in their forge. 

“Well, you’re always welcome here if you’re bored.” Pita poured a scoop of dried berries into the dough she was kneading, beginning to work the fruit into the bread. The deep purple berries staining the pale dough. “We could always use an extra set of hands, and baking is a great skill for everyone to learn at some point.” 

Wheaton nodded, finally taking a moment to dust his hands and shirt off. “Baking is very therapeutic, it might just be the thing you need to unwind.” 

No, the forge was the one place he ever felt at peace, the one place he felt he truly belonged. He sighed, absently running his calloused thumb over the course grooves in the wooden table, packing the flour deeper into the grains. His left hand squeezed into a fist, the dirty and fraying bandage covering his palm wrinkling and bunching. He could feel the heat from his skin bleeding through the cloth, the slight shock of pain as his fingertips pressed harder into the burned flesh keeping him grounded in the present. 

His mind wandered to the various injuries littering his body, all a product of his own weakness. The blistered skin hidden under his pant leg seemed to grow warmer the moment he thought about the injury. He’d been careless, trapped in his own mind before he’d bumped right into the white-hot prongs he’d left out stupidly instead of plunging them in water. The metal had burned right through the cloth of his pants, boiling his thigh and ripping apart the skin. 

The puffy rectangular burn on the top of his foot throbbed against the inside of his boot, screaming for the relief of freezing water to stop the fire. He’d stumbled into the forge early in the morning, desperate for a distraction from his own thoughts. His apron and boots were left discarded outside the forge door, his sleep-deprived mind assuming his sleepwear and gloves would be enough protection. He’d dropped a sword hilt on his foot, nearly rendering him unable to walk for days. 

The palm of his right hand held the memory of a burning sword, the tip of the weapon forever etched into his skin. The shock and fear on Smith’s face as Link grabbed onto the shield he’d been hammering without a glove forever burned in Link’s mind. That had been the last straw, earning him a ‘break’ — as Smith had put it — from the forge until Link could figure himself out. 

It had been over a week, and Link was more within himself than ever. He could practically feel the murmur of the thoughts in his head growing stronger, pushing against the inside of his skull. He strained to snuff out the feeling before the thoughts could take over, shaking his head before realizing Wheaton was staring at him with a raised eyebrow. 

Link waved them off, forcing a light-hearted laugh through his heavy chest. “Thanks for the offer, but I can’t leave Gramps to man the forge by himself. Besides, working in the forge is the thing that brings me peace, I don’t think that baking will do that for me.” 

A hand rested on Link’s shoulder, a shadow passing over his head as a small bag plopped onto the table in front of him. He glanced up, meeting Pita’s warm smile. “Then I hope you’re able to convince Smith to let you help out around the forge again.” 

“Just take some breaks now and again,” Wheaton added, crossing his arms. “We rarely get company beyond customers picking up an order, it’s nice to have someone to talk to.” 

Wheaton and Pita were some of the only hylians who kept to themselves and their work. They didn’t spend their time idly wandering around the bustle of Castle Town, gossiping with housewives and travelers looking to chat. The couple spent their time honing their craft, winning over the hearts of Castle Town’s new families with their baking alone. 

They even continued to uphold their tradition of baking kinstones into sweets for the kids that often ran into their bakery with the energy to rival that of a tektite’s. It was hard to ignore the fond yet longing look they held anytime a group of kids would swarm their small shop, happily chattering on about anything and everything. They couldn’t have kids of their own, but they treated their young patrons as if they were their own. 

Link nodded, peering into the burlap bag Pita had tossed down. The top of a bread roll sat near the top of the bag, balanced on goddesses know what else was in there. Knowing the bakers there was no doubt they planned on sending Link off with as many sweets and rolls as could fit in one bag. 

“How much?” He asked, already knowing what the answer was going to be. 

Wheaton waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head. “Your company is payment enough, it’s all yours.” 

Link sighed, pushing the bag off to the side. It was a hefty thing too, if anyone else had handed him the bag Link would’ve thought the bottom was filled with rocks. “There’s enough in here to feed a pack of keatons. I won’t feel right taking all this for free. So, how much does it cost?” 

Pita shushed him, lacing her fingers together and resting them on her husband’s head. “Everything in the bag is already a day old, and we aren’t going to sell it before closing up. You’re doing us a favor.” 

“You’re not going to let me pay you, are you?” 

The couple’s head shook in unison, their kind smiles snuffing out the last of Link’s arguments. With a sigh Link pushed himself out of the chair. He knew when he was fighting a losing battle, and he couldn’t find the mental energy to keep this one up. “Thank you, but I will find some way to repay you sometime.” 

Wheaton laughed, pulling one of his wife’s hands off his head to cradle it in his own. His hand fully covered Pita’s dainty one as she worked to intertwine their fingers. “You can repay us by flipping the sign on your way out.” 

The two waved Link off with their free hands as he flipped their ‘open’ sign to read ‘closed.’ He waved back, clutching the bag of bread to his chest before. The door swung shut behind him, leaving him standing in the stone streets of Castle Town. He stood still for a moment, closing her eyes and reveling in the cool spring breeze on his face. Flour still dusted his hands and tunic, blowing off gently to disappear down the rapidly clearing streets. 

_ “Maybe we should take them up on the offer, working at a bakery could be fun!”  _

Link sighed heavily, his grip on the bag tightening as he opened his eyes, staring up at the sky and the slowly drifting clouds. He’d been able to keep it together with Wheaton and Pita around, and that was a start.

_ “It’s . . . odd. We should’ve merged fully once the Four Sword was placed back on its pedestal. For our mind to fracture even partly, some outside force must be responsible.”  _

_ "We just need to find a way to split fully and reform. We didn’t have any problems with fracturing for nearly ten years, but the force of staying together must’ve just taken a toll on our mind.”  _

_ “If anything, staying split causes us more pain than staying whole. We just need to tough it out, our thoughts will rejoin eventually.”  _

_ “We need help. We need to tell someone!”  _

_ "The last thing we need to do is tell anyone about this. We can figure it out.” _

Link groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. His shattered thoughts merged together to form confusing and contradicting ideas, it was enough to give him a headache just trying to pick them all apart. When he was merged and still held the Four Sword, it wasn’t uncommon for his mind to split in four. The thoughts would bicker, but they would often manage to come to some solution. 

And if they didn’t, the thoughts would split with the Four Sword and figure it out verbally. 

Yet Link’s thoughts had come back while the Four Sword sat silently on its pedestal. His thoughts split apart at the smallest problem, almost refusing to come to an agreement and instead merging into a head splitting cacophony.

He shot the passing postman a small wave, stepping through the Castle Town gate and onto the worn trail home. The sun dipped in the sky, just hours away from hiding away behind the skyline and plunging Hyrule in darkness. Under the veil of night was when the keatons and acro-bandits would emerge from their burrows and nests, slinking through the shadows. 

The dirt path under Link’s feet twisted and turned around the trees that had just begun to leaf-out for spring. Traveling to or from Castle Town to the forge was a short walk, taking only about five or so minutes on foot, under two on horseback. It didn’t give Link much time for sightseeing, but he found that he didn’t care. He’d raced down the foot-worn path so many times in his youth that he could follow the path in his sleep. 

His house came into view before he knew it, the smoke rising from the chimney a beacon of relief for Link’s feet. He’d been running around with the minish for hours before crashing at Wheaton and Pita’s bakery, and he could definitely feel it in his legs and feet. 

The door sat ajar, immediately sending a spike of panic through Link’s heart and causing it to skip a beat. His nerves silenced as his grandfather’s laugh pooled out of the open windows, his voice carrying through the walls. 

He quickly set the bread onto the small kitchen table, brushing aside bent scraps of metal and charred gloves to make space. His grandfather always lectured him about leaving his things laying about, but the old man was just as bad at it as Link was. It was a wonder that they ever found what they needed, but they always seemed to know exactly where everything was.

“Gramps, I’m home!” He shouted through the small house, his back to the living room where his grandfather sat. 

“Took ya long enough!” Smith shouted back. “Hurry on in here, we’ve got a guest.” 

Link frowned, turning his head to the open living room door. As Smith got older Link had pushed more and more for the addition of a proper living room onto their small house. When the only rooms they had to speak of were a forge, kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom, it didn’t necessarily make for a good place to truly relax. Smith had been opposed to the idea, but once the couch had been put in and the walls had been decorated it became one of his favorite rooms. 

If he wasn’t in the forge, Link could often find Smith relaxing on the couch, flipping through an old picture book or looking fondly upon the swords and medals hanging around him. Sometimes Link would catch him whittling small, wooden kinstones, like Link’s grandmother had often done when he was a child. Smith wasn’t exactly good at it yet, but he was improving with each passing day. 

He poked his head into the cozy room. The extra gloves and aprons for the forge sat atop a chest filled with both fractured and merged kinstones. Various items from throughout Link’s journeys sat scattered around the room. Some hung from the walls, others sat against the pile of unfolded blankets that both Link and Smith had been saying they’d put away ‘eventually.’ 

The only well kept part of the room was the empty shelves twisting around the walls like a pathway. Books connected shelves like bridges, twine hanging down to the floor from small knobs glued to the strange structures dotting the path. It all blended into the background, easily missed if someone didn’t know what they were looking for. 

The minish that lived in their house ran across the paths each and every day, sliding down the small ropes of thread to land on Link or Smith for a convenient ride to the next room. Many of them liked to hide out in the forge, tucking themselves into Smith’s apron pockets and watching his techniques. They often left Link and Smith small gifts of the cluttered tabled each morning, ranging anywhere from lost buttons, flowers, or even small replicas of whatever they had been smithing the day before. 

Smith sat on the couch like usual. His apron hung on the couch’s arm, smearing soot and coal across the plush cushion. He glanced up at Link as he entered the room, a broad smile hiding behind his thick, soot stained beard. “Long day?” 

Link snorted, shaking his head and stepping fully into the room, leaning against the door-frame. “Just as long as all the others.” 

His focus shifted from his grandfather to the kid sitting in the wicker chair adjacent the couch. He was short by hylian standards, yet still taller than Link; not like that was some great achievement or anything, everyone was taller than Link. His face was that of a child’s, yet he held the composure of an adult. Dirty blonde hair sat neat and perfect, trimmed close to his neck with his bangs reaching just above his jawline. A red shirt roughly three or more sizes too big hid his lean frame, his hands folded neatly in his lap. 

Link waved, nodding a head toward the kid. “Nice to meet you, I’m Link.” 

“Hello.” The kid nodded his head back, keeping it hung down in a sort of semi-bow for a few moments before making eye contact with Link once more. “It’s an honor to meet you.” 

Smith laughed, breaking through the awkwardly tense air that had started to creep into the room. He patted the stranger on the back, earning a look of surprise from the kid. “No need to be so formal! He may be the hero, but my grandson isn’t someone who wants that sort of treatment.” 

The kid nodded, his bright blue eyes staring into Link’s own. He seemed to be searching for something. For what, Link had no clue. He had no idea who the kid even was, let alone what exactly he was doing in his house. 

Glancing over to Smith, Link rolled his eyes. “Filling the minds of the youth with grand stories about me again?” 

Smith chuckled, shaking his head. “Youth? You’re not sixty, Link. Stop acting like it!” 

“Guess you’re just rubbing off on me.” 

Other than Zelda, Link didn’t have many people he could say he was close to. Sure, many of the inhabitants of Castle Town — like Wheaton and Pita — were nice and he liked talking to them, but he wasn’t on close terms with any of them. He mostly spent his time either with Zelda or with Smith, but he hadn’t seen Zelda in months. 

Smith rolled his eyes dramatically before gesturing to the kid. “Well, this ‘youth’ wanted to meet you a few hours ago and he’s had to suffer through my boring old stories while we waited for you to get back.” 

The kid quickly shook his head, a serious look cementing itself on his face. “They weren’t boring.” 

“No need to lie to get on my good side,” Smith chuckled, patting the kid’s shoulder a little harder than he probably meant to. 

The kid shifted his gaze from Smith to Link and the room seemed to freeze for a moment. There was a weight behind his eyes, an unspoken phrase that carried more importance than Link was probably ready for. “May I speak with you outside?” 

He glanced at his grandfather before shaking his head. “You can trust Gramps with anything you’d tell me.” Link wasn’t sure why he wanted Smith to be present for whatever the kid needed to say. The kid hadn’t done anything to earn his distrust, but the small feeling in his gut only continued to grow. It was pulling him toward the kid, just like he had been pulled toward the sword. 

And the implications of that scared him. 

There were a few moments of tense silence, the unspoken words between them filling the room like a bucket of water. It sloshed against the walls, threatening to drown them in its cold waves until the kid sighed quietly, shattering the silence. 

He glanced around awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck without meeting Link or Smith’s eyes. “This is, uh . . . going to sound really weird, but I’m not from this time.” 

The pit in his stomach grew, an unexplained unease creeping up Link’s throat. He coughed into his fist, hoping to clear his worries from his chest and plaster on a small smile. “What do you mean by that?” 

“I’m from the future.” The kid seemed to deflate slightly, his shoulders slouching. He finally met Link’s eyes, the kid’s defeated expression quickly fading into hope. “And I was hoping you’d know how to help me get home.” 

* * *

_ “He could easily be lying.”  _

_ “That sorcerer is probably behind this.”  _

_ "Vaati is sealed under the Four Sword, he shouldn’t be able to use any of his powers. And I don’t remember him having the powers to bend time.”  _

_ “The kid’s as confused as we are, poor guy.”  _

_ "What reason would the kid have to lie to us?”  _

_ "The likelihood this boy is from the future is both absurd and near impossible. What reasons would some greater power — whether that be Vaati or the gods — have in sending a child into the past.”  _

_ "We were a kid when we were forced to save Hyrule. I wouldn’t put it past the gods and goddesses.”  _

_ “Then what’s their motive?”  _

Link rubbed his thumb against his knuckles, staring at the ground yet only registering the thoughts melding and twisting in his head. He could tell them apart now, practically feel the cracks forming in his head before they were forcefully shoved back together into an amalgamation of emotion and thought. 

He was still himself, but for brief moments he wasn’t. He was four, then he was one, then he was four once more. He couldn’t think, but at the same time that was all he could do. 

The kid from the ‘future’ rubbed the back of his neck still, choosing to look around the room at the various trinkets and weapons lining the walls. Part of Link wanted to believe the kid, he didn’t seem to have a reason to lie about something as strange as ‘time travel.’ Yet another part of Link wasn’t sure what to make of the kid; there were too many uncertainties. 

Link finally sighed, the thoughts in his head quieting into one. He glanced up at the kid, his hands still hanging between his legs and his elbows rested on his knees. “Do you remember how you got here? To our time, I mean.” 

It took a few seconds before the kid met his eyes, his brow furrowed slightly. “I was visiting home and I couldn’t sleep. When I went outside for some fresh air I was attacked . . . I think.” 

Smith frowned, leaning forward. “You think?” 

The kid nodded, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. “I hadn’t heard anyone approach, but something hit me in the back of the head before I blacked out. I can vaguely remember something dark, a door maybe? But when I finally came to it was gone and I was in the forest east of here.” 

_ “Hit in the back of the head . . . maybe he has brain damage? Head trauma can cause memory loss, he could just be confused.”  _

_ “He seems fine though. His speech isn’t slurred and he seems fully ‘here.’”  _

The whole situation just felt . . . off. Link sat up fully, the couch cushions shifting under him. “Do you have any ideas about who attacked you? Does anyone have a grudge against you that could’ve done this?” 

The kid shook his head almost immediately. “I know of no one with the powers to turn back time, nor a reason for someone to use them on me.” 

“And how did you know you were in the past?” Link ran a hand through his hair before realizing with a start he had muttered his thoughts out loud. “I mean, why do you believe you’re in a time different from your own? What made you come to that conclusion?” 

The kid nodded his head towards where Link sat on the couch. “You.” 

“You know who I am,” Link murmured, resisting the urge to bite the tip of his thumb in thought. “How?” 

That garnered more of a reaction out of the kid than anything Link had seen since meeting him. His cheeks grew red, his eyes widening slightly before he ducked his head in embarrassment. “I uh — I read about you in storybooks all the time when I was a kid.” 

_ “We’re in story books?!”  _

_ “He knew where we lived from stories alone? How much of our life is written for the kingdom to see?”  _

_ “Why in the goddesses’ names would there be stories about us?”  _

_ “It’s a good cover story for someone who knows too much about us.”  _

Link shook the thoughts from his head, sifting through them. “That still doesn’t explain how you knew where you were. You knew where I lived and came to speak with me before you had even seen me.” 

“There was a sign pointing to ‘Smith and Link Blacksmiths’ on the road. I knew what time I was in after I met Sir Smith and he told me about his grandson, the Hero of Men.” 

Smith nudged Link with his shoulder leaning over to whisper, “Told you that sign wasn’t a waste.” 

“I never said it was. We just needed a better name for the forge,” Link whispered back. “And you  _ were _ talking about me.” 

There were too many missing pieces, too many things that didn’t quite click together. Link highly doubted the kid was lying; afterall, what reasons would he have to construct such an unnecessarily complex lie? 

Link had no idea what to even make of the situation, not even sure why the kid thought he’d be able to help him. Someone was behind this, but Link couldn’t figure out why. Who would mess with time just to send a kid back in time? 

Unless they had done more to time than just displacing a kid. 

He stood quickly without warning, startling both his grandfather and the kid. They stared at him with wide eyes before Smith found his voice. “What’s your plan?” 

Honestly, he didn’t really have one. He stood with as much confidence as he could muster, not wanting to look uncertain in front of the kid currently  _ years _ from his family. “I’m going to the one person who can come up with a plan.” 

Smith smiled, the kind of smile that would be given to someone when they finally solved a problem where the answer was so painfully obvious that a child would have solved it in half the time with their eyes closed. “Finally going to see her after all this time?” 

Link didn’t bother responding, who else would he have been talking about? 

“I’ll come,” the kid stated with certainty. He made to stand, but Smith pushed him back down into the chair with a hand. 

“You got hit in the back of the head and passed out for who knows how long.” Smith nodded his head towards Link. “He’ll take care of things,  _ you  _ need to let me check you for a concussion.” 

The kid hesitated, looking up at Link with the brief defeated look of a child before it hardened back into neutrality. He nodded, relaxing back in his seat. 

Link paused in the doorway, turning back to address the kid over his shoulder. “I’ll be quick, we’ll figure this out and get you home.” 

Stepping out onto the road to Castle Town as the sun sunk behind the mountains, Link could only hope he wasn’t lying to the kid. 

* * *

Zelda sighed, slowly bringing her empty teacup down from her lips. Her hair hung in messy tangles down her back, the silky red bow and clasp that normally kept it neat and tied up sat discarded on the floor. Her dress sat in a pile on her bed, leaving the princess in nothing but a white silk shift and her tights. 

“So,” Zelda set the cup down on the table, the ceramic clicking harshly and shattering the awkward silence between Link and the Princess, “is there a reason you attempted to break into my bedchambers while I was undressing? Or was that simply a coincidence?” 

Link groaned, feeling his cheeks flush. “I didn’t break in, and I  _ did  _ knock first after all! I didn’t know you were . . .” He waved his hand around in lieu of words. 

Zelda stared at him coolly, before a snort shook through her pursed lips. She grinned, her laugh causing Link’s face to turn the same color as her bow. “You know I’m messing with you!” Her posture relaxed in an instant, one of her legs swung over the other as she leaned forward, elbows on the table and head held between her hands. “You’re always welcome at the castle, you have been since we were kids. And it’s not like you saw anything.”

The change in her demeanor was like flipping a coin and Link couldn’t help but chuckle at the nature of his friend. “Minister Potho would have a heart attack if he saw you crossing your legs in such modest wear,” he joked, feeling some of the embarrassment leaving his face.

She huffed, brushing off his comment with the back of her hand. “Please, the worst he’d scold me for is not calling for a spare mattress to be delivered the minute you stepped foot in the castle.”

Link rolled his eyes. “I haven’t slept over in years. If anything he’d be getting onto me for not visiting enough.”

“Of course he would! You haven’t taken time out of your day to visit in months.” Zelda’s smile fell slightly, a small frown breaking apart the joy on her face. “And we do still have a lot of your stuff here, stowed away just in case.”

When Link was younger, his grandparents had been very close to the King and Queen. They dragged Link to the castle at least once a week, where he would hide behind their legs or follow one of the knights around the castle as they showed him the different rooms and people. He remembered being terrified of the ornate castle, it's silhouette looming above the quaint town he was more accustomed to. The knights were all so patient with him, gently holding his hand when he was shy, introducing him to the various staff and families within the castle.

For reasons he couldn’t remember he had ran away from the knight guiding him around the library. He had run, with each step he had gotten more and more lost, and the fear of being lost drove him to run even more. It was pure luck that he had ended up in the small garden in the castle courtyard, staring face-to-face with a little girl, hiding in the same bush as him.

When their guardians had found them, the princess of Hyrule was already playing tag with the son of the late kingdom blacksmith. 

“I’m sorry for not visiting more,” Link sighed, running a hand through his hair and messing it up nearly as much as Zelda’s was.

“It’s fine, really.” A smile found its way back to Zelda’s feature, albeit much smaller than before. “We’ve all been busy lately.”

It was hard for Link to imagine his friend sitting on the throne to Hyrule, the ornate crown of her mother sitting on her head. Yet that day was fast approaching, the day that Princess Zelda was no longer just the Princess of Hyrule, but its Queen. 

“How have you been with everything? Last time we spoke you seemed very . . . opposed to taking your father’s throne.”

Zelda shrugged, running a hand through her hair in a desperate attempt to untangle it. Her efforts were fruitless. “My father needs the ability to retire from the throne, to go live his life and see the expanding borders of Hyrule. I just wish I didn’t have to be the one to take his place.” 

She was free spirited, often giving the castle guards quite the workout when she would sneak out of the castle to visit Link when they were kids. Becoming ruler of an entire kingdom was a big burden, even more so when the kingdom was actively working to establish connections with tribes and settlements and join them with Hyrule. 

She wouldn’t be able to do as she pleased anymore, and Link knew that was slowly killing her on the inside. 

“But, you’re not here for smalltalk.” Zelda shook her head, standing from her plush seat and plopping herself down onto her large bed, tossing her already discarded dress onto the floor without a care. “I know for a fact you didn’t run to the castle at sunset just to ask me about my problems. So spill it.”

She patted the space next to her on the bed and Link sighed, getting up to join her. The mattress squished under his weight, the silky royal blue sheets brushed against his calloused fingertips. Zelda grinned, flopping onto her back unceremoniously and sending shockwaves through the bed. She rotated her body sideways, just enough to prop her head with a hand to stare at Link, who still sat on the edge of her bed, running his hands against the fabric.

“I— Today’s been a weird day.”

Zelda was quiet, shifting slightly as she patiently waited for Link to continue. How would he even explain the situation with the kid. Should he even burden her with something like that? He could reach out to someone else for help, someone who wasn’t stressed out enough with endless training and meetings. 

It was too late to turn back though. 

“There’s this kid, he showed up at the forge a few hours ago according to Gramps. And he uh . . . he says he’s from the future.” 

Zelda blinked, obviously not expecting Link’s issue to be  _ that _ . “The future? How?” 

Link shrugged, rubbing his palms against the front of his pants. “Says he was hit in the head and passed out, when he woke up he was in the forest.” 

She sat up with an interest and seriousness Link hadn't expected. “Does he remember anything from before he passed out?” 

“He mentioned something briefly about a dark . . . door of sorts? He wasn’t sure what it was and it was gone when he woke up.” 

The blood drained from Zelda’s face, her hand raising to cover her mouth as she muttered into it. She flew off the bed with a speed Link wasn’t expecting, her footsteps creaking the floorboards as she all but ran to the large dresser near her study. The dresser doors flew open, revealing a seemingly endless supply of brightly colored dresses and coats. 

Link shifted, folding his hands in his lap as Zelda tore through her things, tossing shoes and books without a care. “What’re you looking for?” 

“I had a dream a few months ago, just before you stopped visiting,” she answered curtly, her back to Link. She flipped open one of her many journals, groaning and tossing it aside when she didn’t find whatever she was looking for. “There was a gate in my dream and it felt important so I sketched it out before I could forget it.” 

Link’s hopes raised, maybe he would be able to help the kid. “You think the gate in your dream is the same that the kid saw?” 

Zelda huffed, chucking another book aside. It hit the wall with a resonating thump like many of the ones before it; Link could practically hear the confusion of the knights standing guard outside her door. “I don’t know.” 

“Well, what else can you remember about your vision? Retell it to me while you look for your journal.” 

Zelda slammed the dresser doors shut, popping open the lid to a large, ornate chest. “I’ve had the dream almost every night after the first, and recently it’s been more vivid than ever. Each night I see our kingdom swallowed by darkness, these strange gates tearing open the sky itself. It looks like our kingdom, but at the same time it’s not. There are buildings and mountains that I don’t recognize, towns larger than anything we could dream of founding in our lifetime floating in a sea we  _ don’t have.  _ It’s as if everything had been torn apart and stitched together. 

“I see the destruction of our land stopped by a figure stepping through one of the gates.” 

It wasn’t unusual for Zelda to have prophetic visions, most of that was attributed to the light fore within her. Yet for her to have a vision repeatedly and so vividly . . . that worried Link. The last time she had visions to this degree it had been right before Vaati broke free of the Four Sword. 

He leaned forward, clenching his hands. “You think the kid is the figure.” 

She sighed loudly, standing from her spot in front of her chest to sit at the floor of her bed, leaning down to shuffle through underneath it. “The figure in my dream didn’t look like a kid, far from it. They looked . . . heavenly I guess? Bathed in golden light, triforce shining on their hand and an ethereal blade on their back.

“But visions tend to take some liberties with things, so we can’t rule out the possibility.” 

Link frowned, leaning off the bed just enough to peer down at Zelda, who still laid flat on her stomach, head underneath the bed. “He’s just a kid, I doubt he’d be some heavenly savior. Besides, I didn’t see an ‘ethereal blade’ anywhere in sight while I talked to him. Is it a possibility that he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? He’s here by accident?” 

Zelda jumped up triumphantly, the book held high above her head. She reclaimed her seat next to Link, flipping through the pages while she shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe?” She shook her head, skimming the pages too quickly to actually comprehend what her own writing was saying. “It doesn’t matter, what does matter is  _ this _ .” 

She turned the opened page towards Link, a single rough drawing spanning across the two pages. A spiderweb arch sat dead center in the pages, the rounded edges coming together to a hard point at the very top of the gate. Thick charcoal lines swirled around each other in the center of the image, smeared outward to stain the empty spaces of the pages grey. 

It filled Link with a deep dread, a feeling he hadn’t had ever since Vaati had been sealed for good. The chaotic patterns trailing up the edges of the gate, making it look as if it had been handcrafted by a madman. It felt  _ wrong _ .

“It’s a lot more unsettling than I thought it was going to be,” Link admitted, his voice a whisper as he stared at the drawing. 

Zelda paused for a moment, glancing between Link and the book before turning her head to the large window facing the east horizon. She sighed, turning the book back around to face her. Before Link could say anything she grabbed the corner of one of the pages, slowly ripping it from the book before setting it aside, ripping the other page out as well. 

“What’re you—” 

She folded the pages neatly, pressing them into Link’s hands. “I can’t sneak out of the castle like I used to, especially not at this hour. I need you to show these to the kid, ask him if he’s seen this before.” 

He looked up at her, frowning. He needed answers, he needed help. How was he supposed to help the kid if Zelda wasn’t going to offer more than a drawing before sending Link on his way?

_ “She’s not coming with us?”  _

_ “We don’t know what to say to the kid! She’s the one who needs to talk to him!”  _

_ “We just have to show him the picture, right? That’s not too hard.”  _

_ “But once we’ve shown him the picture, what’s our next step? If he recognizes it, what does that mean? How is a picture going to help us get the kid back home? Zelda holds the light force, if anyone could help the kid it’d be her, not us.”  _

_ “We have to try though! Zelda’s trusting us with helping him.”  _

_ “She’s not trusting us with anything. She’s giving us a piece of paper and pushing the problem off her shoulders.”  _

_ “She’s busy! She can’t be with us all the time anymore!”  _

_ “Well if Zelda is unable to offer us more help than a single piece of paper, perhaps it’d be best if we reached out and tried to contact Ezlo. He’s the next most knowledgeable when it comes to magic.”  _

Link nearly jumped out of his skin as something grabbed onto his hands. Zelda’s hands squeezed his own, further wrinkling the paper helplessly crumpled in his clenched fists. He relaxed, muttering a quiet apology as he tried to pull his hands away. 

Yet he couldn't, Zelda just squeezed his hands tighter. “Smith was right,” she whispered, her eyes filled with too much concern, too much . . . betrayal? Link couldn’t tell, he was too busy trying to get away from the grasp of the woman staring down at him. 

_ “What does she mean by that?”  _

_ “What does Gramps have to do with anything?”  _

_ What was he right about?”  _

_ “She knows. She knows that we’re broken.”  _

_ “How could she know? We haven’t told anyone!”  _

He couldn’t meet her eyes, staring down at their connected hands and the wrinkled paper squished in between. Charcoal rubbed off the pages and onto their hands, probably smearing the picture in the process. 

“How long?” 

“What?” Link looked up, nearly wincing at the  _ pain  _ in her expression, as if she had just seen the late Queen’s pendant shattered right in front of her eyes

“How long have you been . . . split?” 

She knew.

_ “How did Smith find out?!”  _

_ “We were so careful!”  _

_ “We nearly burned off our hand in the forge, we were anything BUT careful!”  _

_ “Why did he tell Zelda? She’s too busy to bother with something like this.”  _

_ “Continuing to lie won’t get us anywhere, we have to come clean.” _

Link finally pulled his hands away from Zelda, taking a moment to compose his garbled thoughts as he smoothed out the drawings. “About three months now, but I’m fine. I’m figuring it out, honestly.” 

Her expression turned horrified, then furious. She stood, towering over Link easily. “Why? Why wouldn’t you tell me about something like this?” 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and tangling his fingers in his hair. “You’ve been busy with your duties as royalty, I’m not going to bother you when I can fix this problem on my own.” 

“But you haven’t!” She threw her arms out, exasperated. “Is this why you stopped visiting? Why I never once got a letter from you responding to the countless ones I sent? You didn’t want to  _ burden me _ ?!” 

Link’s hand tightened its hold on his hair, pulling it slightly to ground himself. He could feel his thoughts fracturing, trying desperately to break apart. “Yes! You have too much on your plate as is, you don’t need my small problems to add to that. And really, I can fix this on my own! I’m not ‘split,’ my thoughts are just overlapping a little.”

“Disappearing for three months without a single goodbye is more stressful than  _ anything _ you could’ve done!” She turned her back towards Link, throwing open her wardrobe doors again to stuff the discarded items back in. “All this time I thought I had done something wrong, that you didn’t want to speak to me anymore! I’ve spent months worrying that I lost my best friend, when it turns out he just didn’t want to burden me!” 

“You’re nearly a Queen!” Link threw his hands down to his sides, hitting the silken sheets. “You need to focus on the kingdom!” 

“I’m your friend!” She shouted back, the shoe in her hands dropping to the floor like a stone, the sound crashing through the room. 

They stared at each other, the fight draining their veins. Link slouched forward, holding his forehead in his hand as he ran his thumb along the edge of the drawing. The guards outside Zelda’s door were probably worried, yet there was no knocking on the door or turning of the handle. 

Link’s mind was as silent as the room, the tension between him and Zelda so thick it weighted down the air and stopped the words in their lungs. 

Zelda sighed deeply, dusting herself off as she gently closed the dresser doors with a soft click. The bed shifted and shook under her weight as she pressed up against Link’s side, staring down at her hands in an attempt to not stare at him. He could feel her glances on his skin, her shifting uncomfortably and bumping against his shoulder. 

“You know that your problems aren’t a burden to me, right?” 

The tension in Link snapped like a string, his weight leaning against Zelda’s side as he sighed, grabbing onto her hand and squeezing it. “Yeah, I know. I’m just stubborn.” 

She snorted, squeezing his hand back. “Well, we both are.” 

He leaned his head against her arm, ignoring the feeling he still got when he remembered Zelda was nearly two feet taller than him. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, I thought I could handle it on my own but— But I can’t.” 

Her arm snaked around his shoulders, pulling him in an awkward half-hug of sorts. “And I’m sorry for getting mad. I’ve just been really stressed lately with my duties and worrying about you.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair and messing it up even further. “But even then, I shouldn’t have yelled.” 

Link shrugged. “I should’ve reached out to you, you have every right to be mad.” 

She leaned her head on his own, her cheek squished against his hair. “Hmm, you know how you could make it up to me then?” 

“How?” 

“Coming to visit again.” 

Link pulled away from her hug, the two of them staring at each other straight-faced before falling into a fit of laughter. They could practically hear the sighs of relief from outside the door, the guards always did have a habit of eaves-dropping. 

“I’ll definitely try.” 

Zelda beamed, punching his arm lightly with a laugh. “Good, it gets boring around here without you.” 

They sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying the comfort the other brought them. Link wasn’t sure why he was so against telling her, was so against asking for help. Even if she didn’t have answers, having her support was enough. 

_ “We’re missing something. When EXACTLY did Zelda start getting those visions?” _

Link’s lighthearted mood fell within an instant, his brow furrowing as he sat up straight. Zelda’s smile soon fell as well, replaced with concern. “You okay?” 

“You said you started having those visions just before I stopped visiting, right?” Link felt the pieces clicking together, yet the largest of the pieces seemed to be absent, leaving a giant hole in the center of the puzzle. “How long before I stopped, exactly?” 

Zelda frowned, glancing over to the paper planner pinned to her wall. “I don’t remember, a week maybe? Why?” 

The pit in his stomach returned, pulling against Link with enough force to make him sick. “I started ‘fracturing’ around the same time.” 

She froze, her mouth opening and closing as if struggling to find the right words. “How’s that possible? Pure coincidence?” 

“Or are they connected?” Link huffed, flopping back onto the bed. 

Zelda bit her lip, frowning at her hands in her lap. “What higher power can grant visions and split minds though? For what purpose?” 

“The goddesses?” 

Zelda shook her head. “The goddesses may send me visions through my connection to the light force, but that doesn’t explain why you’re splitting apart without the influence of the . . .” She stopped, staring at her hands in complete silence. 

When she didn’t say anything for a few seconds Link gently set his and on her arm. “Zelda?” 

“The Four Sword,” she muttered, turning her head and attention to Link. “The goddesses are reaching out to you through the Four Sword.” 

_ “They’ve never spoken to us before, why now?”  _

_ “Do they even have the power to do that? We’re the one who crafted the Four Sword using the four elements.”  _

_ “The goddesses still created the original elements themselves, they should have some connection to the sword.”  _

_ “We shouldn’t still have a connection to the Four Sword, right? We haven’t touched it in years.”  _

Link used Zelda’s arm to pull himself back up, confusion weighing him down almost literally. “Why, what’s it all mean?” 

“. . . Maybe our adventures aren’t quite done.” 

* * *

The Four Sword glistened in the rising moonlight, the treetops forming a frame around the clearing and plunging everything outside the innermost circle into darkness. The squeals of keese and the leathery snaps of their wings echoed against the night sky, the bushes rustling as the nocturnal came out of hiding and the creatures of the day retreated to their burrows and nests.

The wrappings around the hilt danced in the breeze, fraying slightly more. It had been years since Link had last laid hands on the blade, yet it barely looked as if a day had passed. He suspected that Zelda or one of her attendants regularly polished and cleaned it, despite him insisting that they should leave it to rust. No one would feel tempted to pull a decrepit sword from a mossy old stone, it’d save them all the problems that would arise if the sword was ever drawn.

Yet here he was, getting ready to take up the sword once again.

He sighed, glancing back at Zelda. “Are you sure this’ll work?”

She frowned, tightening the blanket around her shoulders and stepping towards where Link and the sword sat, surrounded by flowers swaying in the night. “It should.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Zelda rolled her eyes, lightly punching Link’s shoulder before kneeling down in front of the blade. She looked over the blade standing between her a Link, grinning mischievously like she was eight years old again. “What’s life without a little risk?”

“This isn’t really something we should risk.”

“Just get in position, pastry thief.”

“I haven’t stolen your sweets since I was six.”

Zelda bit back a snort as she closed her eyes. Her palms pressed together in a prayer, resting on her lips gently. Her hair hung down her shoulders, framing her relaxed face as she leaned her head forward, nearly touching the blade of the Four Sword with her forehead.

The air crashed down at Link once he pried his eyes away from Zelda and onto the blade, practically feeling the magic pooling out of the central gem fixed in the hilt. The moonlight created a beacon of white light around the dormant blade, as if the goddesses themselves were trying to draw as much attention to the sword as possible.

His thoughts were silent, yet he could feel the small cracks widening, pressing against his hands and pushing him forward to draw the blade. He wanted to feel its power again, the freeing feeling it seemed to carry in the short blade.

His chest barely moved, scared that if he breathed too hard the magic would disappear into the night. He inched his hand towards it slowly, terrified that it wouldn’t accept him this time, burning the skin off his hand and leaving his thoughts forever a tangled mess. 

He nearly jumped as his fingertips brushed against the sword, squinting his eyes closed before slowly wrapping his fingers around the golden hilt. His heart hammered in his chest, drowning out the screeches of night and the silent murmuring of Zelda’s prays below him. The sword seemed to hum under his grip, trailing up his arms and wrapping around his neck before plunging into his skull,

Without thinking his other hand found itself wrapped around his other, his eyes open and glued to the glint of the metal under his hands, the shine of the moon reflecting through the blade like a prism. He could feel the colors on his arms as he slowly drew the sword, the blade scraping against the stone like a knife through butter. The colors clawed at his hands, ripping them apart from the inside out.

The tip of the sword hit the night air without a sound, Link’s chest rising and falling heavily. He felt light and heavy at the same time; feeling as if he took a step he would collapse, yet he could run from one end of Hyrule to the next without breaking a sweat. The clearing was silent, the keese and critters of the night nowhere to be seen. 

He sighed, relaxing and looking down at Zelda with a smile. Her eyes remained screwed shut, her face twisted into a grimace. Her mouth moved quickly and silently, whispering prayers to the pedestal now void of its sword. 

The prayers fell on deaf ears. 

The ground under their feet shook, slowly at first before speeding up violently. An inky substance bubbled from the empty hole in the pedestal, clawing and thrashing its way into the open air. It convulsed across the pedestal, twisting and reaching desperately, like a dying animal. 

Link tried to step back, horror shouting at every fiber of his body to  _ run _ . Yet he couldn’t, the darkness clung to his legs, using his body to pull itself further up and out of its prison. Then it began to  _ scream _ , to shout words that did not exist and curse gods that had long since abandoned it. 

“Zelda!” Link yelled, trying to get her to open her eyes. The darkness covered Zelda to her shoulders, inching its way around her arms and crawling up her face. She didn’t move, her lips still muttering silent prayers and hands bound to the goddesses. 

The darkness grabbed his hand, twisting and bubbling fingers clawing feebly into his skin. Another hand grabbed his tunic, the darkness was going to drag its way out of the pedestal if it was the last thing it did. He swore he could hear his name, screamed by a familiar voice long since distorted by the darkness. 

The darkness shrunk back from the blade in his hand, yet he couldn’t move enough to use it. Fingers boiling with power closed around his neck, yet made no move to tighten their grip. 

_ “Please . . .”  _

A voice that was not his own rang through Link’s head, splitting through his mind like a knife. He gasped, feeling his knees collapse yet he did not fall, held upright by the darkness engulfing the pedestal like a parasite. 

_ “. . . Power . . .”  _

Link felt desperation that did not belong to him, tears streaming down his face from the pure and overwhelming  _ hunger  _ the darkness cried. He struggled to find his own thoughts, to find his voice against the trembling darkness enveloping his being. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, locking eyes with the convulsing mass struggling to take form. A wing burst from the darkness, twitching and flapping before collapsing in on itself. 

A flash of light sent Link falling to his knees, the darkness taking the form of something hylian, something  _ young _ for just a moment. It stared up at Link, red eyes wide yet devoid of all the emotion. It screamed, losing its form and falling into a mass of darkness as it thrashed, shrinking under the harsh throb of light. 

A shimmering layer of light engulfed the darkness, shoving it back into the pedestal as it gave one last cry before falling silent. The glowing emblem of the triforce gently bobbed in the air above the pedestal, lowering to the ground peacefully. The corner tapped the stone pedestal, shattering the emblem before the light sunk into the ground, fading away with the last weak screech of Vaati’s broken remains. 

Zelda’s eyes shot open, staring wildly at nothing before she collapsed forward. It took Link a moment to stand, his head spinning. The Four Sword acted as a great makeshift cane, helping Link regain his balance before he groaned, blinking the pain from behind his eyes away. 

“Looks like it worked,” Zelda laughed feebly, her arms shaking as she struggled to push herself up. Link stumbled over, the ground feeling like water under his feet. He helped lift Zelda to her feet, her arm sitting on his head as she leaned against him for balance. 

The pedestal stood innocently surrounded by flowers unharmed by the ordeal, nothing about it suggesting it sealed away the corrupted remains of a once powerful sorcerer.

Link sighed, waiting for Zelda to regain enough of her strength to stand on her own before kneeling in front of the pedestal. He placed his hand against the empty slot for the sword, feeling nothing but cold emptiness brushing against his palm. 

“He didn’t deserve this, he was just a fool who didn’t understand the power he held,” Link whispered. 

Zelda settled down next to him, placing her hand over Link’s. “None of us understood the powers we wielded.” 

“He begged for me to save him all those years ago, and I couldn’t.” 

“His distorted lust for power corrupted the fraction of the light force within him. He’s not there anymore, he’s nothing but a collection of mindless power.” Zelda sighed, “There was nothing we could’ve done to save him, no way to free his soul.” 

“. . . I wish there was.” 

“. . . I know. Me too.” 

They fell silent, staring at the pedestal before the cries of the keese returned, filling the void of silence with the sounds of night once more. 

* * *

“The Master Sword?”

The kid nodded, his hands folded neatly in his lap and his eyes not leaving Link. He was a polite thing, much more mild-mannered than Link had been at his age for sure. With a little questioning Link had found out the kid was fifteen years old, so he had been close in his earlier judgement.

Link scoffed lightly, raising an eyebrow. “The Master Sword is an old wive’s tale. It’s a story told to kids to make the Age of Creation more interesting.”

The kid shook his head firmly. “No, it’s as real as the sword at your side. The Master Sword is drawn only by the hand that holds courage, rising to fight against the curse of Ganon time and time again. At least, that’s what my instructor told me when I drew the blade.”

An ethereal blade, held by the figure who would save their land. 

Link shook the thought out of his head, the Master Sword was a myth. “So you have a courageous hand?”

The kid struggled to find his words for a moment, twiddling his thumbs. “I carry the hero’s spirit, the vessel of courage reborn in times of crisis to aid the land.

“You have it too . . . I think.”

“You think?”

A frown wormed its way onto the kid’s face. “It’s believed that you hold the hero’s spirit, explaining your ability to wield the Four Sword. But it’s never been confirmed since you never made contact with the triforce or Master Sword.”

Link raised an eyebrow, slightly confused but not willing to make it apparent. “So you’re saying that if I touch your magical sword you’ll know if I have the hero’s spirit or not?”

That garnered a sigh from the kid, his shoulders falling slightly. “If I had the sword with me, yes.”

Now that he mentioned it, Link had yet to see any of the kid’s belongings aside from the clothes on his back. “You forgot a sacred sword at home?”

The kid shrugged. “I didn’t exactly have a heads-up before I was knocked unconscious and brought here.”

Link gave the kid a once over, making a mental note to take the kid shopping for a shirt not four sizes too big. He’d also have to get the kid a bag, maybe he could borrow one of Link’s old ones? Link shook himself from that train of thought, grounding himself in the now.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with the ‘savior’ kid; there was no telling how long he’d actually be around for.

Link jumped, nearly forgetting the main reason he had visited Zelda the night before. He quickly fished the papers from his pocket, smoothing them out as much as he could before setting them on the table between him and the kid. “You said you remembered something resembling a dark ‘door’ of sorts. Does this ring any bells?” 

The kid’s eyes widened, staring at the heavily smudged and crumpled charcoal sketch. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s the ‘door’ I saw.” 

A figure bathed in holy light, stepping through the gate of darkness. 

Goddesses above, Link really hoped they found their savior in the form of someone who  _ wasn’t  _ under the age of eighteen at least. 

It took Link a few seconds to realize the kid was staring at him, a thousand questions dancing behind his silent expression. He smiled, folding the picture back up before tucking it in his pocket and dooming it to a future of further crumpling. “My friend Zelda drew that. She often receives visions from the goddesses, and she’s been dreaming of that door of shadows for nearly three months.” 

“What’s it mean?” 

Link contemplated telling the kid, telling him that until they found someone who fit the description of ‘savior’ better, he was the one who held that title. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, staring at the boy barely older than he had been when his very essence had been ripped apart into pieces. 

Being a savior, being a hero, those weren’t titles a kid should ever have to wear. Link knew that better than anyone else. He knew how it felt to have the weight of the world on the shoulders of a mere child. It was crippling. 

He might not be able to lie forever, but he’d give the kid more time to be just that, a  _ kid _ . 

He shrugged, leaning back to rest against the couch cushions. “Not sure, but if we can find another one of those gates we might just be able to send you home.” 

The kid smiled, a soft sigh of relief breaking the tension in his form. “Thank you.” 

The last thing Link wanted to do was lie to the kid, but he deserved a little hope. Link knew what it was like to be away from family, he’d often spend weeks or even months away from Smith during his adventures. But to be so far from your family that you existed in a time before they had even been born? Link could only imagine what the kid was feeling. 

The kid . . . 

Oh goddesses above, he’d known the kid for nearly a full day and he’d just been calling him ‘kid’ the entire time. 

“I just realized I never asked for your name,” Link admitted sheepishly. “I’m normally better about that, I just . . . got a little sidetracked after meeting you.” 

The kid’s eyes widened, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ before he shook himself back to neutrality. “Oh, no that’s my fault. I can’t believe I didn’t bother to introduce myself first . . .” 

Link shrugged. “You had a lot on your mind, it’s understandable.” 

The kid nodded after a moment, before growing uncomfortable. It was barely noticeable, but Link could see it in the fidget of his hands. “My name is also Link.” 

“Oh, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

For the first time since Link had first met him the kid snorted. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, an attempt to stifle the laugh threatening to spill out and to compose himself. Link felt borderline euphoric seeing the kid finally break a little and be a ‘kid.’ 

He feigned sympathy, shaking his head with a sigh. “It’s a terrible name for someone to give their kid. You should look into getting it changed to something more normal. It’s too late for me, but maybe there’s hope for you yet.” 

The kid cleared his throat, covering his smile with his fist. “I like it.” 

“Well, you’re insane. Who’d actually  _ want  _ to be named after a chain link?” Being in a family of blacksmiths with a history of naming their children after things relating to their craft, it was pretty reasonable to assume they’d all be named something stupid. 

Smith was a normal name. Link was not. 

The kid lowered his hands to his lap, lacing them together once more. “A chain link? I’m named after the heroes of old, not a chain.” 

“Heroes, plural?” The only ‘hero’ that Link had ever heard of was the fabled Chosen Hero, who forged the Master Sword and ended the war against a vengeful god. The hero’s existence was simply a legend, their name changing with each telling of the story. 

The kid nodded, rubbing circles on the back of his hand. “All the heroes we know of were named Link. My mom had always loved the stories about the heroes, so she wanted to name me after them.” 

“All the heroes? Seems like the name might be a bit cursed, don’t you think?” The chances that  _ every _ hero had been named Link was absurd. Afterall, Link wasn’t named after someone, he was named based on a silly family tradition. 

“Maybe,” the kid hummed. “Or maybe the Goddess just really likes the name.” 

“So if the name’s cursed, you're a hero too, yeah?” Link asked, genuinely curious. “How old were you when you saved your land from ‘crisis?’”

At that, the kid faltered, breaking his eye contact. “I—I haven’t yet.”

“Well, that’s good,” Link huffed, feeling relief flood his chest. He swung his legs off the couch and stood up. “Nothing can prepare you for saving a kingdom, but the more time you have to ready yourself the better.”

Goddesses know how much Link could’ve used more time to prepare himself for his adventures.

“But having the same name could prove to be a bit of an issue, especially when introducing you to new people . . .” Link scratched the back of his head. “Any preference on what you go by? I’d offer to change my name, but I don’t think anyone around here would fall for it.” 

The kid thought for a minute, before shrugging. “Kid is fine if it’s easy to remember.” 

Link was really hoping he would be able to stop calling the kid ‘kid.’ It felt weird using the term ‘kid’ to describe the other Link, especially when Link was less than ten years older than him. It’d be fine if Link was in his thirties, or even if the kid was younger, but they weren't. 

He sighed, grabbing the sword resting at his feet, stretching. “Well, we’re going into town to get you some clothes later today once I finish my chores. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable, keep the minish company. They’re usually nervous around new people, but give them a few minutes and you won’t be able to pull them off.”

The kid frowned, stopping Link just before he could walk out the door. “. . . Minish, sir?”

“They’re also known as the picori by hylians.” He glanced over his shoulder at the kid. “And don’t call me ‘sir,’ it’s weird.”

True to his word, Link grabbed the kid to shop for some proper clothes shortly after finishing tidying up the forge. He had let the kid borrow one of his old tunics before taking him into town, not wanting the kid to wander around a crowded space in a shirt that constantly fell off his shoulders. He glanced down at his own tunic as he waited for the kid to finish changing. It was the same green tunic he had always worn, but it just didn’t feel right anymore.

He wasn’t just green afterall, so why should his tunic be?

He sighed, “Hey, you done yet?”

A muffled ‘yeah’ filtered through the wooden door, quiet as if the kid was whispering. Link didn’t hesitate to push the door open to peek his head inside, holding back a snort at the kid’s predicament. 

Minish happily chirped from their perches atop the kid. They hung from his hair, weaving small braids into his short bangs and sat on his head as if it were a bed. They grabbed the collar and hem of the borrowed green tunic, swinging with each small movement the kid made. He stood there, frozen and staring at Link with wide eyes. 

Link rolled his eyes with a grin. “Alright, leave the poor guy alone.” He helped pull the small creatures from their guest, setting them onto the table gently. “Don’t let them walk all over you, just tell them to stop.”

The kid just stared at the minish in his hands, cupping it like a fragile piece of glass before setting it down with the others. “They’re so small . . .”

Link snorted, watching the kid pull the remaining minish from his hair. “This your first time seeing the minish before?”

“Yeah,” the kid ran a hand through his no longer minish-infested hair, undoing many of the small braids and knots. “The pico— the minish haven’t been seen in Hyrule for years. Most people think they’re just fairy tales.”

Something about that sat wrong with Link. The kid was so open with answering any questions Link had, but he’d never actually asked anything about what the kid’s version of Hyrule was like. “Are they just in hiding or something?”

The kid shrugged, gently picking up and setting down one of the minish who kept trying to climb his way to the kid’s shoulder. “Maybe.”

The minish kept jumping onto the hem of the kid’s tunic, trying their hardest to climb up higher. Link stopped the kid before he could set them back down again, picking up the minish himself and setting it on the kid’s shoulder. “Well I’m not sure about your land, but here you can find them just about anywhere. They especially like towns, living in the walls and cabinets. They help us with the little things and in exchange we give them gifts and a safe place to live.”

Link swung his small leather bag off the couch and onto his shoulder, eyeing the boy and his minish friend. “It’s fine if that one tags along, they tend to get a little restless being cooped up here for so long.”

Without any hesitation the minish jumped from the kid’s shoulder to his ear, taking a second to adjust themself before settling down. The kid quietly laughed, following Link into the newly cleaned kitchen. “My sister would love them, she’s always been fond of creatures from myth.”

“Well they’re not mythical, you can see that for yourself,” Link said over his shoulder. He gave a quick wave to his grandfather, who gave a curt nod in return. “We’ll be back in a while, Gramps. Just going to grab some basic supplies for him from Castle Town.”

Smith coughed a plume of smoke, twirling his pipe in his fingers before resting it on the table. “Just stay outta trouble, ‘aight?”

Link gave a goofy salute, swinging the door wide open in the process. “’Aye, General.”

The door cut off the amused laughter echoing through the quaint forge. 

* * *

The kid was a natural in town, weaving between the fairly busy crowds and never losing track of his guide. It was obvious that the kid had spent some time in a busy town or village, which Link appreciated. The last thing he wanted was to lose the kid just because he wasn’t used to walking through a crowd.

And to say the kid was a hit with the locals would’ve been an understatement. It was uncommon for a new face to pop up in Castle Town, it was a still developing kingdom afterall. The fact that it was a kid tagging along with the hero just added to the town’s curiosity.

“So where’d you say you were from again?” A shrill woman’s voice cut through the crowd, her bright purple dress sagging off her scrawny frame.

“I’m from just outside Hyrule’s borders, ma’am,” the kid answered smoothly.

Link watched the exchange through the side of his eye, focusing more on the collection of bows in front of him. The shopkeep leaned against the stall, staring at the kid currently surrounded by many curious hylians. “So, who’s the kid?”

“Just someone who’s visiting,” Link smiled kindly. He fished out his rupee pouch, nodding towards one of the smaller wooden bows. “How much?”

The shopkeep grabbed the bow in question, turning it in his hands for a moment before grinning. “Fifty if you tell me who he actually is.”

Without much hesitation the purple currency found its way to the merchant’s palm. He twisted it around, catching it in the light and bathing his assortment of tools in a deep violet hue. With a nod to Link the rupee disappeared into the man’s wallet, the bow nudged towards Link’s hand.

“So, he a relative of yours?”

Link bit back a snort, strapping the bow onto his back. “What makes you think that?”

The merchant raised his eyebrows, scoffing. “Well it’s a bit obvious, two’a ya look like siblings.”

“We both know that’s impossible,” Link shot a quick look to the kid, who had seemed to have drawn another group of people into a conversation.

The man followed his gaze, shrugging. “Cousins then?”

Once someone mentioned it, it was hard for Link to ignore the minor physical similarities between him and the kid. They weren’t identical, far from it in fact, but they were similar enough to cause people to draw conclusions. It was the little things, like the color of their eyes and the shape of their faces. Although, Link wouldn’t go nearly as far as to say they looked ‘related’ in any way.

He decided to roll with it, nodding. “Yeah, on my mom’s side.”

The merchant made to prolong the conversation, yet Link turned away before that could happen. He gave the merchant a small wave, nodding his head in thanks before squeezing his way towards the kid. Two of the younger kids in town pulled on one of the kid’s arms and his pant leg while three housewives chatted endlessly.

“—And my, you have just the most dashing eyes,” one of the women squealed, drawing the other women’s attention to the kid’s eyes. “You’re going to be quite the head turner when you’re older!”

The kid ducked his head in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, his hand raising to let the minish still perched on his ear move into his cupped hand. “Thank you, you’re much too kind.”

“Oh! And how polite too!” The second woman exclaimed loudly, her obnoxious lipstick shining in the late morning sun. “I’d love to meet your parents sometime, learn some pointers from them for my own children.”

The third loudly sighed, gesturing down to the two kids still pulling against the kid. “Oh I can relate to you there! My two little keatons never seem to tire themselves out. Always so rowdy and loud . . .”

Link sighed, gently nudging one of the women aside before pulling the kid out of the other kid’s grasps. “Sorry to butt in, but my cousin and I have some errands to run and we really must be going.”

Shock and then recognition flashed across all their faces. The children erupted in little snickers as they bolted down the streets in search of their next target to harass. The women collected themselves quickly, the second woman with the bright lipstick piping up first. “Link, this is your cousin? We should’ve known, just look at you two!”

“Matching tunics and everything! Aren’t you two just the sweetest little things!”

“Are you two running errands for Smith? Oh, how thoughtful! I wish my kids would—”

Link chuckled, casually grabbing the kid’s arm. “Well, we best be on our way! Have a great rest of your day.” Before the women could respond, Link quickly pulled the kid out of the ladies’ shrill-like rambling and down the street. They weaved through the crowd, putting enough distance between themselves and the women before turning sharply into a narrow alleyway.

The kid met his eyes, opening his left hand and steadying the minish. “Thank you.”

Link waved him off, leaned up against the house wall. “You need to stick up for yourself, don’t let them surround you like that.”

The kid shrugged. “They weren’t hurting anyone.”

“They made you uncomfortable,” Link retorted, channeling his best unyielding Smith face. It seemed to work as the kid slouched, leaning back against the brick wall and focusing his attention on the rattled minish.

For a kid who seemed to carry himself with as much confidence and composure as an adult, the other Link was really bad at actually standing up for himself. He was a kid who was in a play, cast as the role of a put-together and strong adult. Yet the stage was all of Hyrule, and the kid’s poor acting was hidden behind his costume. 

Link waited for the kid to set the minish back on his shoulder before he slung the bow off his back. He held it out for the kid, who reached for it without a second thought. “You know how to use one?” 

The kid took it from his hands, running his hand across the metal engraved riser. “Not enough to be good at it.”

“Well, can you fire one?” Link huffed, placing a hand on his hip.

The kid hesitated before nodding. “I’m much better with a sword though.” 

“There’s no need for us to buy you a crappy sword in town. I can get you a better one for free at the forge.” Link sighed, tossing the rupee bag to the kid, almost surprised when the kid caught it easily, raising an eyebrow in Link’s direction. “Let’s focus on getting you some clothes. You’re doing the negotiating this time.”

The kid fell into step behind him quickly, the buildings and people falling into a stream of color and background noise. It was amazing how much Castle Town had grown since Vaati’s defeat. The once modest and sparsely populated town had exploded into a central for the Hyrule kingdom. As the kingdom’s borders expanded, and more settlements joined the kingdom, more people flocked to the castle and the town surrounding it.

Yet in times of peace, there wasn’t much excitement for the people of Hyrule. The kingdom was still young, working on expanding their reach and establishing small settlements, but there was nothing new happening. The occasional report of a village outside of Hyrule’s borders tended to stir up some excitement and engagement from the kingdom, but it quickly faded away.

As Castle Town grew more lively, and the Hyrule kingdom’s population steadily increased, the people began to entertain themselves in the most arbitrary ways. Most often it was the harassment of travelers and visitors passing through, bombarding them with questions. They wanted stories of the outside, tales of life on Hyrule’s borders.

The day the zora had visited Castle Town to seek an audience with the king was more energetic than any festival to date.

And now that curiosity and excitement was directed towards the kid.

The crowds whispered as they passed, knights stopping them on the street to hold a friendly chat before pushing them back into the crowd with a laugh. Merchants hung their heads out their stalls, calling out for the kid to look at their ‘exotic’ wares. 

After about thirty minutes of being hounded without the kid even showing a hint of discomfort, Link had to only assume his hometown had been as hectic as Castle Town, if not more. Link liked the hustle and bustle of Castle Town, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment in seeing how much it had grown since he’d been a kid. 

Yet there were still times when it was too much. There were too many sounds, too many colors. He got overwhelmed in Castle Town, and could never stay for long. It’d been three months since he’d last ventured into the maw of town during the busiest hours of the day. He’d tried to once when his mind was fractured, finding himself hiding behind a barrel with tears in his eyes until the streets had cleared up. 

“So, Cousin, what kind of clothes do you normally wear?” Link tilted his head over his shoulder slightly, speaking just loud enough for the kid to hear and break the conversation he was part of. 

“Cousin?” The kid raised an eyebrow, speeding up a step to stand next to Link.

“Someone pointed out we looked like we could be related. It’s not a bad cover up anyway; no one really knew anything about my mom’s side of the family, so they aren’t going to question it.” Link turned sharply, the kid barely fumbling to follow. “But don’t dodge the question. If you want to get a skirt or something I’m not going to judge. . .” 

The kid shrugged, glancing around the multi-colored fashion covering the streets. “Something simple, easy to move in.” 

“Like a skirt?” 

The kid shrugged again, glancing up at the modest tailor shop in front of him. “Only if it’s cute.” 

Link snorted, pulling the kid inside the tailors before they could be stopped yet again by curious townsfolk. “Go with pink, it’ll compliment your eyes.” 

The kid nodded his head after a moment of thought, waving to the tailors absently. “I’ll think about it.” 

One of the tailors immediately rushed over, pulling the kid aside for measurements the second he mentioned what he was looking for. The kid seemed much more comfortable standing still and getting measured than Link had at his age. That was partially the reason Link had worn the green tunic for so long, he hadn’t wanted to get measured again for something new. 

Although, he had time. 

* * *

“Wait wait wait,” Link wheezed, pulling his knees to his chest as the kid grew beet red. “You thought I was married to a ‘picori princess’ this entire time, and you never bothered to ask me?!” 

The kid nodded, covering his face with his hands. “I thought you were just embarrassed about it.” 

The kid had earned a permanent bed in Link and Smith’s living room, living with them for weeks without complaining even once about having to sleep on the couch. The extra pillows and blankets he was given were always neatly tucked away once the day began and the items he had sat neatly in the corner. He was the perfect guest, getting along nicely with their customers and even going as far as to cook. 

Yet the normally clean living room sat in a mess, blankets scattered across the floor and pillows covered in sleepy minish. It had taken almost a week of pushing before the kid had finally caved in and agreed to have a ‘sleepover’ with Link. 

Sure, Link could ask the kid about the future whenever he wanted, but something about a sleepover made everything ten times more fun. He’d always had sleepovers with Zelda when they were kids, gossiping about the people of the castle or re-enacting many of the battles Link had faced. 

And the kid certainly had some interesting tales, not only about the future, but the future’s perception of Link’s time. 

The large red tunic hung off the kid’s shoulders, his new tunic still in the paper packaging the tailors had wrapped it in. The kid hadn’t gotten a chance to try it on before Link was arranging the living room for the night, tossing his own package aside for the morning. 

The kid gripped the pillow in his lap tighter, careful not to move too quickly to disturb the minish sleeping on his head. “If you don’t mind me asking, were you actually able to shrink down to the size of a minish?” 

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d know about that,” Link admitted. With how out-there many of the stories about him were, the fact that his ability to shrink stayed true through the ages was outstanding. “Yeah, my good friend Ezlo knew a spell to make something shrink down and then grow back to its original size. He accompanied me during my first adventure, helping me with magic and guidance when I needed it.” 

“Can you still shrink?” 

“Well, Ezlo was the one who knew the magic spell, and he never taught it to me.” 

The kid’s face fell for a moment, his eyes glancing over to the pile of minish scattered across their pillows. Their tails twisted around each other, keeping them all from rolling off the plush edges of their giant bed. “Oh.” 

“. . . That doesn’t mean I never learned the spell secretly.” 

No matter how many times he had begged Ezlo to teach him magic, he’d always refused. It wasn’t until later that Link understood why Ezlo looked  _ scared  _ each time Link asked; he didn’t want to fail another student, to inadvertently lead another kid down the path of foolishness and power. 

Although with the amount of times Link heard the chant Ezlo shouted from atop his head, the shrinking spell was practically hammered in his mind. He didn’t ever plan on letting Ezlo know, but he was sure word would travel to him eventually, especially considering how gossipy minish were. 

“So you can do it whenever you want?” 

“Yep.” 

“. . .” The kid stared at him, almost expectantly. It was the closest Link had seen the kid to begging for something, and it was over something Link honestly didn’t have the energy for. 

He waved the kid’s gaze away, huffing. “I’ll show you some other time, it’s too late to be doing magic.” 

Link could tell the kid was disappointed, but he did a good job hiding it. His eyes shifted to the sword leaned up against Link’s bag. The makeshift sheath from the castle armory had long since been replaced with its proper sheath, the leather scuffed and worn but still in great condition. 

“I have one more question,” the kid blurted, not loudly, but just quickly enough to catch Link off-guard. 

“Uh, yeah.” Link stumbled to find his words under the determined looks the kid was giving him. “Shoot.” 

“You don’t have three brothers, do you?” 

The question sunk in Link’s chest like a stone in water. He could feel it slam against him, small cracks forming in his mind. Only this time they weren’t forcefully rammed back together. 

“I— What? No, I don’t,” Link fumbled his words. 

The kid nodded in thought, pointing at the Four Sword. “So, does the Four Sword create three clones of you then?” 

If Link had been drinking something, he would’ve spat it out. Instead, he inhaled a little too quickly, falling into a coughing fit as the cracks spread like spider webs through his thoughts. He could feel his thoughts separate from ‘his’ into ‘theirs’ slowly, one thought becoming one, then two, and then four. 

“I . . .” They trailed off, not quite finding the words they needed. “It’s more like a separation, rather than a cloning.” 

The kid seemed to think, before he looked to Link and froze. “Your eyes are purple,” he blurted out, the shock of the moment breaking his little act without a care. 

Link raised a hand to their face, pressing their fingers under their eye, despite being unable to see it themselves. “That happens sometimes.” 

“It hasn’t before,” the kid whispered, leaning forward to get a better look at Link’s eyes. “They’re like . . . changing colors.” 

Link snorted, pushing the kid away before he could press his nose against Link’s. The kid seemed to realize how he was acting, red washing across his face before he dug his hands into his pillow once again, leaning back considerably. 

“Well, you caught us a little off-guard with your question, so we’re a bit fractured right now.” 

The kid seemed to catch on quickly, his eyes darting to the Four Sword gently humming in the corner of the room. “It splits you into pieces.”

Link nodded, relieved that the kid took the effects of the sword in stride. “The Four Sword was forged by our own hands using the four elements during our first adventure. The four elements hold the powers of the goddesses, and on our second journey they imbued the sword with the ability to split its wielder into four.” 

“So, you’re really four different people?” 

Link waved their hand in a so-so motion. “Yes and no. When we’re whole, our collective personalities balance each other out, we’re less the sum of our parts, but the whole from which the parts are derived. When we split, our personality is distributed throughout unevenly, leading to wildly differing personalities from each of us. 

“And sometimes we get a mix in-between, like right now. We’re still whole, but there are enough cracks in our mind to splinter our thoughts ever-so-slightly.” 

The kid blinked, staring blankly at Link before nodding. “So right now you’re still ‘Link,’ but at another time you could be the personalities of Link?” 

Link shrugged, leaning back. “That’s a way to look at it.” 

“. . . What are their names?” 

“Red, Blue, Green, and Vio.” 

“Like the colors of your eyes.” 

Link snorted, the ease in their chest easing some of the cracks in their mind. “Yeah, like our eyes.” 

They both fell silent, Link shutting their eyes and focusing on easing their thoughts. They hadn’t expected the kid to know, especially considering how much history got  _ wrong  _ about them. After a while of silence the kid shuffled, laying down on his stomach and raising a hand to catch the minish on his head, just in case. 

“I’d love to meet them one day if they ever wanted to.” 

Link laughed quietly, the rest of his thoughts lying to rest as the kid closed his eyes, head buried in his pillow and minish bundled in his hair. 

“I’m sure they’d like to formally meet you too.” 

* * *

Link fidgeted with his tunic, his fingers running across the stitches separating the four patches of color. It was amazing how well the tunic fit him, the shades of purple, blue, red, and green nearly identical to the tunics he had worn during his second adventure. The hood was a nice touch, and he could tell the tailors had a lot of fun making it. 

Smith had even added his own touch, the small, metal bird heads weighing down the edges of the hood, ensuring it wouldn’t fly off in the wind like Link’s hat had done so many times. 

Link was nervous beyond reason, unable to sit down and focus his thoughts. His belt was too loose, his hair was falling in his eyes, his baldric sat wrong across his chest. Smith must’ve noticed Link’s discomfort a while before his grandson had sighed heavily, throwing himself down onto the chair.

Smith laughed as Link tried to brush the hair from his face again. “I haven’t seen you this nervous in years.”

Link huffed, resorting to tucking his hair behind his ear. “Well, I haven’t gone on an adventure in years either. And last time I did, I didn’t exactly come out of it whole.”

With a hearty chuckle Smith ruffled Link’s hair, leaning down so he was roughly the same height as his grandson. “Bah! You came out of it with a better understanding of yourself.”

The sword and shield weighed on Link’s back like a boulder, the bag slung over his shoulder filled to the brim with various tools from his adventures and spare potions. The unsent letter to Zelda bore into Link’s chest, twisting his heart and flipping his stomach like a raft in a storm. Would she be upset by his decision, upset that he decided to send her a letter explaining his departure instead of telling her face to face? He’d talked to her about the prospect of him leaving with the kid already, and she’d even encouraged it. Yet . . . 

“I just . . .” Link sighed, running his hands down his face before cupping his head in his hands. “I don’t know if us leaving is the right choice in all this.”

Smith stared down at Link, before sighing and scooching the other chair over to sit next to him. “Look, I may not quite understand what’s going on, but you aren’t going to find your answers sitting here in the forge. The appearance of the kid and Zelda’s visions should be proof enough that something isn’t right.”

He shook his head, untying his bandana and clenching it in his hand. “Saving Hyrule shouldn’t fall on your shoulders, it never should’ve in the first place. But I know you, and you’d still help even if it wasn’t your job.” Smith chuckled, setting his bandana on Link’s head before patting it. “And if anyone is at all capable of stopping an infestation of weird portal things, it’s you.”

Link couldn’t help but meet Smith’s laugh with a smile, pulling the bandana off his head and unfolding it in his hands. He smoothed it out, moving to hand it back to Smith before his hand was pushed away with a shake of Smith’s head. “It’s yours now, it’ll do you more good than it does me!” He patted his bald head for emphasis. “The only hair I’ve still got is the hair on my chin, and a bandana won’t help me much with that.”

“I—” Link couldn’t find the words to continue, instead wrapping his arms around his grandfather’s neck, pressing his face into the thick white beard. He settled on a simple, “Thank you.”

They pulled away after a few moments, Smith wiping his eyes quickly before the door creaked behind them. They both turned to stare at the kid, who had frozen in the doorway under their stares. The dark blue tunic hung off his body loosely, yet fit him much better than his dad’s shirt had. A baldric held one of the swords Smith had made for the king’s army, they weren’t going to miss a single sword, afterall. 

Link pushed himself onto his feet, staring at the bandana for a moment before folding it up and wrapping it around his forehead. He un-tucked his hair from under the fabric, letting it hang down naturally and cover up most of the bandana.

“Well, it was supposed to help tie up your hair to prevent it from falling in your face, but that works too.” Smith shook his head with a smile.

With a shrug Link turned towards the kid. “You got everything and say your goodbyes to the minish?”

One of the minish — who Link had eventually learned was named Tupari — had practically never left the kid’s side since venturing out with him to Castle Town. The kid had grown used to accounting for his little friend, avoiding sharp turns and always making sure he knew where Tupari was at all times. The minish hadn’t been too happy that his friend was leaving, but he hadn’t tried sneaking into either of their bags, which was a blessing and a half. 

The kid nodded, adjusting the bag filled with medicine and provisions. His eyes shone with a reckless determination, he’d been trained for situations like this, yet had never experienced the hardship of them firsthand. Link knew the kid wouldn’t be too much of a handful; he was skilled with the blade and would listen to directions without hesitation. While his other areas were . . . lacking, Link could make up for his faults.

He’d missed Ezlo’s company, and it’d be nice to have a traveling companion again. 

The kid bowed his head toward Smith, his posture perfect. “Thank you for your hospitality these last few weeks, sir.”

Smith waved the kid off, shaking his head with a laugh. “You were better company than Link’s ever been. You’re welcome here anytime.” 

Link lightly punched Smith’s arm before swinging the door open. He and the kid gave one last wave to Smith before the door creaked closed behind them. 

Taking a deep breath, Link closed his eyes. He felt the breeze on his face, the moisture in the air as the clouds slowly crept across the sky, blotting out the sun. Droplets of rain traced down his face and he quickly raised his hood. 

After nearly ten years since his last adventure, Link found himself embarking on another. And this time he had someone to protect, someone he needed to get home. 

“Alright, cousin,” Link sighed, opening his eyes to the budding storm around them, “you lead the way.”

* * *

“So, any idea where we are?”

The kid sighed, shaking his head yet again. The crowds seemed to pay them no mind, the locals weaving in and out of street vendors and narrow alleyways without a care. It hadn’t taken the two of them long to stumble across a strange portal of sorts, much like the one Zelda had sketched in her journal. They stepped through it, hoping for it to lead them somewhere familiar to the kid, to gain even a semblance of an idea as to what they were supposed to be doing.

Instead they stepped out of the portal to find themselves in an empty field that seemed to stretch forever onward. They made to step back through the ‘gate’ but it was as if it had never existed, an empty space occupying where it had one sat. Deciding to simply roll with the punches, the two wandered aimlessly through the never ending field of green. 

It was pure luck that they’d managed to bump into a traveler, who complained non-stop about the recent surge of monster sightings and how it had practically ruined her singing career. It took a while, but after she was done sobbing her life’s story she happily pointed them in the direction of Castle Town when asked.

Except ‘Castle Town’ was  _ not _ the Castle Town Link was familiar with. Guards stood at attention on a large drawbridge, making smalltalk with the two before laughing and letting them pass into town without another word. Link had thought his Castle Town was busy, but it was nothing compared to this place.

Crowds gathered around the large, ornate fountain in the town centre, surrounded by shouting merchants and singing bards. Couples danced to the music, kids weaved in and out of legs and dresses, chasing a little dog aimlessly. The streets seemed to branch out infinitely, people disappearing into and appearing out of narrow streets and back-alleys, bleeding in and out of the crowd like second nature. They’d been wandering for nearly an hour, yet each street they took seemed to lead them straight back to the bustling fountain, a new wave of faces completely glancing them over. The castle looming over the town had immediately grabbed their attention, yet every attempt to enter was blocked by one of the guards. They were much more organized compared to the royal guard in Link’s Castle Town, but a bit more . . .

Arrogant.

One of the guards snorted, bumping the guard next to him as Link and the kid approached them. “Well, didn’t think I’d see you two back here again,” he jabbed the end of his spear towards Link, “Haven’t you and your cousin already tried getting in twice now?”

The other guard shrugged, his smirk peaking through his stupid helmet. “Well you know what they say, third time’s the charm.”

Link wasn’t sure if it was just those two guards, or if the entire army was like them; regardless, he had a particular distaste for the guards of this town. “Look, we’d like to seek an audience with your King. We come on urgent business and—”

“Urgent business?” The first guard tipped his helmet back to peer at the two. “What, you out on a mask delivery and you think our King would like one?”

The kid stepped forward, smoothly placing himself between Link and the guard. He bowed his head, a sign of respect for someone undeserving. “We’ve come to help assist in the resurgence of monsters around Hyrule, Sirs.”

The two guards blinked in surprise, before bursting into roaring laughter. “You two, fight monsters?!”

_ “We’ve seen more battles than you’ve had training sessions.” _

Link grit his teeth, grabbing onto the kid’s hand and pulling him away from the guards and back into the busy street. “We’ll come back later,” he hissed to the kid, shooting a glare over his shoulder at the guards shrinking in the distance.

They were back and square one, unsure of exactly where and  _ when  _ they were. A woman stood just ten or so feet in front of the boys, searching around the crowd as if she had lost something. Her hair sat in a large poof on her head, frizzing outwards despite her obvious attempts to tie it back.

Link made to step forward, to ask the women . . . well to ask the women  _ what?  _ Link stopped before he could tap her on the arm, defeated. He wasn’t even sure what he and the kid were supposed to be doing, or if they were even meant to be doing anything at all. They had set out on the journey without any direction, stepping through the first sketchy portal they found.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why don’t we find an inn or something? The guards still won’t let us into the castle, so let’s just try again in the morning. What do you say?”

“. . . I’d like to try one more path.” The kid pointed towards a small side street snaking away from the plaza. It was a surprise it hadn’t caught their attention before, nearly devoid of the hustle and bustle of the rest of the town. A tall building stood in the distance, nearly blocked from their view entirely by the trees and buildings.

Link shrugged, seeing no harm in spending a few more minutes looking around. “I’m not sure we’ll find anything down that way, looks like it might be some sort of church or something.”

The kid bit his lip, shaking his head. He kept silent for a moment, before leading Link down the desolate road lined with flowers and benches. For a road with no business, it was sure decorated a lot nicer than any of the others. The cobblestone under their feet seemed immaculate, barely showing even light signs of age. It was a well kept street, not a piece of trash or discarded item in sight.

It was . . . odd to say the least.

They hadn’t even made it halfway down the road before the kid stopped, staring wide-eyed at the immaculate building towering over them. Three tall towers stood against the slowly setting sun, casting long and fearsome shadows that swallowed up the lush gardens crawling at the building’s base. Guards stood at attention at the building’s entrance atop the stone staircase, the triforce emblem shining brilliantly despite the shadow cast over it.

“I know where we are.” The kid continued to stare at the church-like building in awe, his eyes shining with a child-like wonder Link had only rarely seen from him.

“. . . You figured that out from a church?”

The kid shook his head, finally meeting Link’s eyes. “That’s the Temple of Time, the original one.”

Link frowned, looking over the temple one last time. “I’m not sure what that is, or how it tells you where we are.”

“The Temple of Time was built just before the Era of the Hero of Time and destroyed soon after.” The kid tightened his grip around the handle of his bag, his eyes set forward in determination. “The temple still stands, so we must be sometime during the Era of the Hero of Time.” 

“So Mr. History Buff,” Link clasped the kid on the shoulder, “What’s our next step?” 

“To find the Hero of Time.”

* * *

“. . . Are you sure this is a good idea?” The kid whispered from behind Link, his soft voice barely reaching Link’s ears in the darkened alley. Angry clouds blotted out the glow of the moon and stars, leaving the two to sneak through the pitch black Castle Town. Small squares of light illuminated the cobble of the streets from the houses of inhabitants still awake. The light was few and far inbetween, but it was better than nothing.

“We’re looking for the hero, right?” Link glanced around the corner, motioning the kid to follow once no guards were spotted. “Even if he’s not in the castle, someone there should know where we could find him.”

“Yeah, but—” The kid grabbed Link’s arm, pulling him back before he could smack his face into the door that had swung open. They stood with bated breath, only relaxing when the door slammed shut again, the man inside the house muttering something about stray dogs. “Even if that’s the case, I don’t think we should sneak into the castle.”

The town centre was like a different place in the night, filled only with a few stray dogs and the therapeutic trickle of water from the fountain. Not a guard stood in sight, the two heroes relaxing their posture. It’s be much more suspicious if someone looked out their window and saw two figures sneaking around town, versus them simply walking from one place to the next . . . Even if there was a curfew set in place.

“We aren’t going to break in, we’ll just grab someone’s attention from the courtyard and ask them a few questions. The guards said the castle was off-limits to visitors, they never said anything about outside the castle. We’ll be back at the Inn before they even realize we’re out after curfew.”

The innkeeper had made them aware of it shortly after they’d paid for their room, how the kingdom had issued a curfew to ensure no one was caught out of town borders at night. It was for their safety, to protect the residents of Hyrule from the rapidly increasing monster population ravenging through the night and leaking into the day.

So the figure standing in the shadows next to the mask shop instantly sent Link into a mini panic. 

He stopped the kid, glancing around at the streets surrounding them before the figure moved closer. He cursed under his breath, grabbing the kid’s arm and pulling him into a dirty and narrow alley next to the bar. “Got spotted, gonna have to lose them,” he whispered over his shoulder to the kid. 

The grimy walls pressed against their sides, trash cans overflowing with rotting food for the rats blocked their path. They attempted to squeeze past them, holding back disgust at the strong scent of booze and vomit. The illuminated windows to their left gave them a look into the semi-packed bar. Patrons sat passed out around tables, a few playing cards or stumbling to play darts. Their liquor spilled onto the floor as they roared with laughter. Link wrinkled his nose, pulling the kid away from the grubby building and deeper into the maw of the alley. 

“I wouldn’t go in there.” 

They jumped at the voice behind them, the figure approaching slowly with their hands held out. Link didn’t bother wasting another second pushing the kid forward into the alley before kicking over the trash cans and sprinting after the kid. 

“What do they want?” The kid hissed over his shoulder, grabbing onto the front of Link’s tunic and pulling him harshly to the left and into an even tighter alley. 

“I don’t know,” Link bit back. “Probably just some guard out on patrol.” 

They skidded to a stop as the alley came to a dead end. Link pressed the kid back against the wall, holding him back with an arm and blocking him from view. It took a few moments, but Link could hear the figure coming closer. He could hear the scuffle of their boots on the mossy stone, the metallic clicks of a belt or baldric. 

“They’re too quiet for a knight, and they don’t have armor,” the kid whispered in Link’s ear, craning his head to the side to try and look at their pursuer. 

Link huffed, “Well what else could they be, an assassin?!” 

“I can assure you I’m not an assassin.” 

The two heroes jumped, Link taking a fighting stance between the kid and the figure instinctively. The figure raised their hands in truce, stepping forward slowly. “What’re you kids doing out after curfew? Don’t you know it’s dangero—” 

“What’re you doing following us around through the alley?” Link bit back, gritting his teeth and tapping the kid’s leg with his foot. 

The kid caught on quickly, slowly resting his hand on the sword on his back. Link tried to hide as much of the kid’s movements with his body as he could, but his short stature made it a bit difficult. 

“I was—” The figure froze, sighing loudly and cursing under their breath. “Goddesses, I really didn’t think this through before chasing you two down, huh?” 

Link rested a hand on the Four Sword, tightening his grip as the kid slowly pulled his own sword from its sheath. “Just turn around and walk away and we won’t report you to the guards.” 

The figure groaned, “I just wanted to help you find your way home before the guards caught you out. I didn’t mean to come across so . . . intimidating.”

Link scoffed, stepping forward to give the kid just enough space to adjust his stance. “Yeah right. Look, we’re not lost, so you can go home and rest easy knowing we found our way home  _ without _ your help.” 

The figure sighed, stepping forward with a hand out. “Do your parents know you’re out this late? They’re probably—” 

The figure couldn’t finish his sentence, cut off as the kid pushed his way out from behind Link, ramming the butt of his hilt into the figure’s stomach and sending them stumbling back. In a solid motion Link slid the Four Sword from its sheath, pinning the tip of the blade against their pursuers neck. 

Link has assumed their stalker had been a man based on their voice, but the minimal light the Four Sword gave off further cemented his assumptions. The man stared up at him with a single, unamused yet slightly impressed eye, the strange markings that covered his face seemed to twist in the darkness. 

“Can’t say I was expecting to be decapitated by two children in an alley tonight, but it’s honestly not that much of a shock.” The man glanced between the two, strangely calm, all things considered.

Link let the tip of the Four Sword dig into the skin of the man’s neck, not pressing hard enough to draw blood but enough to spook him. “If you want to keep your head, turn around and wa—” 

The kid grabbed onto Link’s hands before he could finish, pulling them back and causing him to stumble back. The sword in his hands left the man’s neck, leaving him rubbing his neck as he pushed himself back off the ground. 

“What’re you . . .” He trailed off, noticing the kid staring at the man with the same look he’d once given Link. It was the same guarded awe and disbelief that he’d held when first meeting Link all those weeks ago. 

“You’re the Hero of Time,” the kid breathed, almost too quietly to be heard. 

The man dusted himself off with a slight chuckle. “Yeah, but you can just call me Link.” 

“. . . Oh for the goddesses sake,” Link groaned. “You weren't joking. How many more Link’s are there?” 

“At least four.” 

There were more than four. 

**Author's Note:**

> With Promises I stuck to a schedule of uploading a chapter each week, but I'm afraid I won't be able to keep a schedule like that with this story. Since the chapters are a lot longer than those of Promises I ask that you stay a little patient with me for this story. I'm going to do my best to get chapters out ASAP, but I'm not going to rush anything and cut down my quality. So, thank you in advance for your patience! 
> 
> (I might also work on other projects while this is still unfinished, Promises really burned me out when that was ALL I was forcing myself to work on. This'll get done, just give it a little time <3)
> 
> I will post updates on my Tumblr @tally-ace. Don't be afraid to send any questions my way if you would like!


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